Beer and Taxes
by sockie1000
Summary: Bonding can occur at the strangest times, even while doing your taxes.  Warning: involves beer and feelings. no slash. And please don't let the mention of taxes scare you off.  They are just the backdrop.


Title: Beer and Taxes

Author: sockie1000

Disclaimers: The guys still are not mine.

Summary: Bonding can occur at the strangest times, even while doing your taxes.

Warning: Involves beer and feelings (no slash)

Author's notes: Please don't let the mention of taxes scare you off. They are just the backdrop.

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Steve rubbed his eyes, sighing as he looked at the papers spread out all over his desk.

It had been long, frustrating day, following dead-end leads on their latest case. Steve knew he could stare at the papers all night long and not glean any new information. They would have to start over again tomorrow. It was time to call it a night and go home.

He stood up, turned off the desk light, and walked out of his office.

It was late and Chin and Kono were already gone. However, the light was still on in Danny's office. Steve walked over to say goodnight.

Danny was sitting in his chair, papers strewn all over his desk. More papers were spilling out of the shoe boxes that littered the floor and guest chairs. He glanced up when Steve opened the door.

"What's all this?" Steve asked, pointing at the mess.

"My taxes," Danny replied, sighing.

"You still haven't done them yet? They're due tomorrow."

"Thank you for that update, Captain Obvious."

"That's Lieutenant Commander Obvious to you."

Danny rolled his eyes.

Undeterred, Steve picked up a box from the closest chair, looked at it, and sat down. "A shoe box? Really? Isn't that a bit cliché?"

"You're surprised by my choice of filing systems?"

"No. It fits." Steve smirked. "But I am surprised to find out you own a pair of Nikes. I wasn't aware they even made tennis shoes out of patent leather."

Danny made a face. "Ha, ha. Very funny."

"I thought so," Steve grinned. "So why are you doing your taxes here instead of at home?"

"There's not enough room in my apartment to spread everything out."

Steve gestured towards the boxes. "I'm surprised you had enough room to even save all this junk. Have you thought any more about getting a bigger place? I know we don't make a ton of money, but even an extra couple hundred a month could get you something nicer. More space for you. More space for Grace. Maybe even get you a pool."

Danny sighed again and asked, "why are you still harping on my living arrangements? As I keep telling you, my place is fine. It may not be as big or swanky as yours, but it works. Besides, there are other ways I would rather spend my money."

"Fair enough," Steve said and then looked appraisingly around Danny's office. "But does it really take all of this to do your taxes? Don't you use the EZ form?"

"Well, I would, if my life was easy, which, unfortunately, it is not. So, I am forced to use the regular 1040 form, which I am convinced comes from the eighth circle of hell." Danny held up a stack of paper. "I mean, look at all these forms and schedules. How is any normal person supposed to figure all this out without a tiny little CPA sitting on their shoulder?"

"Would that be a little angel or a little devil CPA?"

"That depends on whether or not they get me a refund," Danny grumbled.

Steve grinned. "You know, it may not be a CPA, but they have something close. It's called TurboTax. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"Yes, of course I've heard of it," Danny answered. "Rachel used it all the time to do our taxes."

Steve tilted his head. "Rachel did the taxes?"

Danny nodded. "Yes, she did. And she hated doing them too. She'd always start them with a full bottle of wine and the bottle would be almost empty when she was done," he chuckled. "It was really entertaining to hear her all tipsy, mumbling about yanks and their stupid tax system. Evidently not even the London School of Economics can prepare someone for the mind-numbing reality of trying to understand the IRS."

"Well, I don't have any wine, but I do have something else. Don't go anywhere."

Steve disappeared for a minute then returned with two bottles of beer and his laptop.

"Maybe this will help," Steve said as he handed Danny a beer.

Danny took the bottle and popped off its top. "It certainly can't hurt."

Steve sat back down in the chair, placed his beer on the floor, and opened the lid of his laptop. "Lucky for you, I still have TurboTax loaded on my computer. So, let's get started and knock this thing out."

"Just what I always wanted. To be interrogated by technology," Danny scoffed and took a long sip of beer.

Steve pointed at the papers on Danny's desk. "Would you rather do it your way, with a pen and paper? You'll be here all night. Not to mention incredibly grumpy in the morning."

"So, you're doing this out of self-preservation?" Danny asked.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, I can live with that."

"Ok, then," Steve opened up his beer and took a sip, "let's start with your income. Where's your W-2?"

"It's in here somewhere." Danny rifled through the papers on his desk. "Just pick a box and start looking."

Steve picked up the Nike box and began sorting through the papers. After a moment, he stopped and studied a few canceled checks, unsure of how to proceed. He took another sip of beer, then held up one of the checks and spoke hesitantly. "Danny? Why are you writing Rachel a check for $850 every month?"

Danny quickly stood up, walked over, and took the box and checks from Steve. "It's none of your business," Danny said. He sat back down, dropped the Nike box on the floor by his chair, and started looking intently through a stack of papers on the corner of his desk.

"It might be if it's tax related," Steve pried gently.

Danny continued rifling through the papers and did not look up. "It's not. So just drop it, ok?"

Steve nodded. "Ok."

"And here's the W-2," Danny said, handing the paper to Steve.

Steve typed for a moment on his computer. "All right- that's in. Do you have any other sources of income?"

"Is my last name Rockefeller?"

"I'll take that as a no."

Steve scrolled down on his computer. "Moving on to deductions... Property taxes… no. Mortgage interest… no."

Danny raised his eyebrows. "Should I be frightened that you can do my taxes without me?"

Steve grinned. "Maybe. Let's see… medical bills?"

Danny laughed. "Are you actually asking me if I have any medical bills? With you as my partner? You're kidding me, right?" He picked up one of the larger stacks of paper and waved them in the air. "Which bills do you want? The ones from when you busted up my knee, or the ones from when you got me shot?"

Steve looked a bit guilty. "Both, I guess."

Danny handed over the bills and took a long sip of his beer while Steve began adding them up.

Danny stared into space for a minute and then said quietly, "I pay child support."

"What?" Steve looked up from his computer to see Danny intently studying the label on his beer bottle.

"I pay child support. That's why I write Rachel a check every month."

Steve was silent.

Danny looked at Steve briefly before returning his gaze to his bottle. "You're surprised. I can tell."

"A little, yes," Steve said, gathering his thoughts for a moment before continuing. "I mean, I never really thought about it before. But since Rachel is married to Stan, and Stan is fairly wealthy, well…" Steve's voice trailed off.

"You thought Rachel wouldn't need my money?"

Steve shrugged. "Well, yeah."

Danny sighed. "For your information, she doesn't need it. She actually tried to have her lawyers take it out of the documents once she married Stan, but I refused."

Steve watched Danny stare at the bottle and gave him a minute to see if he would speak again.

Danny didn't.

Finally, Steve spoke gently, "why did you refuse?"

Danny startled, as if Steve had awoken him. He put down his bottle, looked at Steve, and sighed.

"Because Grace is my daughter, that's why. And I take care of her. Not Stan. She may live in his house, but this…" Danny held up one of the checks and waved it in the air, "this is something I can still do for her. And I won't let them take that away from me."

Danny dropped the check back into the shoebox, looked away, and picked up his beer, taking another long drink.

"So that's what you'd rather spend your money on," Steve said quietly.

Danny looked down and gave a small nod.

Steve looked at Danny for a minute.

"You're a good father, Danny."

Danny waved his hand dismissively.

Steve leaned forward, elbows in his knees, and looked intently at Danny. "No, Danny. Listen. You really are."

Danny looked back up at Steve. "For what? For not bailing on my daughter?"

"For that. And for a million other reasons. Trust me on this. Grace won the daddy lottery."

Danny looked down again.

After a minute, he spoke. "So, where are we on the taxes?"

Steve looked at his computer. "We're almost done."

"And what's the damage?"

Steve sighed. "As of now, you owe $350."

Danny laughed sarcastically. "Leave it to the government. Put your life on the line, day after day, and pay them more money in the end for the 'pleasure' of doing it." He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet on his desk, and drained the rest of his beer.

"Well, there's one more item left. Did you save any money for Grace's college?"

"Sure. I put some money aside. I've been doing it for years. But it's not tax deductible."

"Maybe not in New Jersey, but in Hawaii it is."

Danny took his feet off the desk and leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his desk. "Really?" he asked.

Steve nodded. "Really. How much did you put in?"

"I'm not sure. There's got to be a statement around here somewhere." Danny dug through 2 boxes before he found it. "Here it is."

Steve typed in the amount and smiled. "Well, do you want the good news or the good news?"

"How about the first good news?"

"Now you're getting a refund."

"Thank goodness. How much?"

"$200."

"And the second good news?"

"Maybe there's something to like about Hawaii after all."

Danny laughed. "You're really scraping the bottom of the barrel if you think _taxes_ are a reason to like Hawaii."

Steve shrugged and the corner of his mouth turned up into a smile. "Maybe. But it's true. At least in this case."

"Ok, then," Danny nodded, "taxes. One point in Hawaii's column. And 1,000 points in New Jersey's column for everything else."

"Hawaii also has Chin. And Kono."

Danny nodded again. "Agreed. One point each for Chin and Kono."

"And Hawaii also has me," Steve added.

Danny lifted his head minutely. "Half a point for you."

Steve feigned injury. "Only half a point? I'm hurt."

Danny raised his eyebrows. "Do you want me to get out my medical bills again? You're lucky I don't give you a negative point."

Steve laughed. "Ok. Fair enough. So that's three and a half points for Hawaii. Plus, we have Grace."

Danny shook his head. "No, Grace is not on a scoreboard. And she automatically outweighs everything else anyway."

"All right," Steve nodded. "Well, at least we got on the board. And who knows? Now that we have the momentum going…"

Danny grinned. "Yeah. Don't count on it."

Steve grinned back and finished off his beer, tossing the empty bottle in the trash. "How about we call it a night and print this thing out tomorrow?"

"Sounds like a plan," Danny said. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head.

Steve got up, holding his computer, and walked out of Danny's office towards his own.

Danny walked to his door and then stopped at the threshold to turn off the lights. "Hey, Steve," he called.

Steve turned around. "Yeah?"

Danny leaned on his doorframe, hands in his pockets. "Thanks," he said. He knew Steve would catch his meaning.

Steve did. "You're welcome, Danny," he nodded and disappeared into his office.

Danny watched him go then spoke quietly.

"You're worth a full point."

_Fin_

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End file.
